


I Hate Him/I Love Him

by ineffable_grimm_pitch



Series: Carry On individual works [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I decided that Baz can bleed fight me, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Watford (Simon Snow), no beta we die like Simons will to live, sexually ambigious Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffable_grimm_pitch/pseuds/ineffable_grimm_pitch
Summary: Baz Pitch is the most talented, most attractive, most insufferable bloke in all of Watford.Objectively, of course. Not in a weird way.But I’m supposed to hate him. I do hate him....right?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On individual works [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615813
Comments: 8
Kudos: 165





	I Hate Him/I Love Him

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been living with this story for a while, so I’m glad to finally get it out there! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who contributed to my Can Baz Bleed problem. I appreciate all of you.

**SIMON**

I don’t see why Baz acts like he does, as if everyone didn’t already think he’s the best at everything he does.

He’s all sly smirks and long limbs and effortless hair and he knows it, he bloody well knows it, the prick. He’s got this dark, villainous ambiance that follows him anywhere he is, and I’m convinced almost every girl in our year has been attracted to him at some point or another. I know Agatha has, and it’s all I can do to hope Penny hasn’t. 

Regardless, he still moves with more elegance and grace than any one person should have, and his uniform is always flawless, and for  _ Merlin’s sake _ , he’s mastered this sly smirk that ties my insides into knots whenever I see it, and I  _ can’t stand him _ .

He thinks he’s better than me. What’s worse, he is. He’s top of the class, he’s a menace on the football pitch, he stole my bloody girlfriend. (Not that we were doing great anyway, and I don’t think they’re actually together, but still.)

Baz Pitch is the most talented, most attractive, most insufferable bloke in all of Watford. 

Objectively, of course. Not in a weird way. 

Everyone knows all of this.  _ He  _ knows all of this. He’s all too aware of the fact that any girl in our year would gladly be swept off their feet by him. Any girl in our year, if given the chance to look at him, storm-grey eyes and harsh angles, and have him really look back, no judgement or patronizing gaze, would stumble over themselves for the opportunity. 

Maybe some people would think that’s weird of me to think. I think some people are too stuck up to face the facts. 

In any case, I hate him. It’s an ungodly hour of the night, and I can’t bloody sleep. But Baz? Baz is dead to the world. He looks so peaceful like this. His hair is loose and all laying across his pillow. His face isn’t all twisted up the way it is when he’s awake. His mouth is open ever so slightly. He  _ still _ looks perfect, and he’s not even conscious.  _ Wanker. _

He almost looks harmless like this. Like he’s not going to kill me one day. Like he couldn’t actually hurt me, even if he wanted to. Like he doesn’t even want to. 

It’s stupid, of course. It’s destined to happen, one of us to kill the other. I always kind of assumed he’d be the one to kill me, instead of the other way around. He’s brilliant, and fearless, and so much better than me at so many things. 

I guess...I guess I never really thought about the battle one day going any other way. Other than him killing me. I guess...huh.

I guess I wouldn’t really want to kill him. 

I don’t really want to kill anyone, mind you, but Baz just...he deserves to live. He deserves a happy life with Agatha, or some other girl if he changes his mind. Because he may be prat and he’s mean and he’s very probably a vampire, but he’s…

He’s Baz. 

I can’t kill Baz. I don’t think I’d be able to make myself. Like, yeah, I’ll throw punches at him all day, but he recovers from those. He can bounce back. If I killed him, honestly…

I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I look back over at Baz. He’s still dead asleep, and his face is moving ever so slightly every few seconds. He’s dreaming. I wonder what he’s dreaming about. Baz, for as much as he keeps his face as emotionless as stone when he’s awake, is surprisingly expressive when he’s asleep. 

I wonder how he does that. Keeping his emotions hidden, I mean. I have mad respect for him to be able to do that. Penny says I wear my heart on my sleeve, that I’m an open book. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, but Baz only has about four expressions that he cycles between. I wonder how he does that. Does he mean to do that? He must, right? 

Anyway, if it weren’t so annoying, I’d think it was cool that he could do that. But he does have this one expression, one reserved specifically for me. It’s not good, mind you, but it’s mine. It’s the look he gives me right before he swings at me. 

I think that one is my favorite of the Baz expressions. Not because it means he’s about to hit me, but because it may very well be the most emotion I ever see written across Baz’s features. And only I can do that. 

I wish it didn’t come with him about to fight me after. I don’t like fighting with him, not really. But what other choice is there? We’re nemeses, mortal enemies, as it was foretold. I wish we weren’t. 

Merlin…

But I’m supposed to hate him. I  _ do  _ hate him.

...right?

I decide to stop thinking about it. It’s late, and I really should try to sleep, and I can worry about this tomorrow. I’ll talk to Penny about it. She’ll talk the sense back into me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**SIMON**

I spend most of the next day trying not to think about Baz and then inevitably failing at that and thinking only about Baz. I’ve managed not to say anything to Penny yet. I’m not even really sure what I’m supposed to say.

But I know that she’ll be able to help. She always does. So I relay everything back to Penny at dinner. About how I don’t want to kill Baz. About how I might not even hate him at all.

She  _ laughs _ . 

“Penny, you’re supposed to convince me that I  _ do _ hate him. You’re not being very helpful,” I complain, exasperated and a little exhausted. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just-” she laughs again. “Simon, you talk about how much you hate him  _ every day _ .”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And now you’ve, what, had a change of heart?”

I shrug. “I never wanted to kill him.” 

“Simon, that just means you have morals.” 

“I know, I just…” I’m getting frustrated. I don’t know how to explain this to her. It doesn’t even make sense to  _ me _ . “It sounds weird, but I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching him, and he was surprisingly expressive, so I was just thinking about how he has, like, no emotions unless he’s about to hit me, and…” I’m not sure where I’m going with this. “I don’t know. I wish I didn’t have to make him want to hit me for him to show emotion.” I’m staring at the table. I didn’t know what I was expecting from this conversation, but I don’t think this was it. 

Penny is staring at me, mouth agape and blinking slowly. “Simon. You’re my best friend, and I love you. But I have been listening to you go on and on about how much you hate Baz since first year.” She’s speaking slowly, like I’m a little kid and it might go over my head. “Now. I have a feeling I know what changed, but unless you know, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. You really need to figure it out for yourself.”

Should I know what she’s talking about? I hope not. I haven’t a clue what she’s on about. I know it’s weird, that I’m basically completely changing my mind about Baz, but...I don’t know. People change, don’t they? Baz hasn’t tried to kill me in years. We haven’t even physically fought this year! And...and...it gets exhausting, being his enemy. I wish we could...I don’t know. Be friends, or something. 

I know he’d skin me alive if I told him that. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he felt the same. 

Merlin, I sound like I’m in love with him or something. Which is stupid. Obviously.

I mean, I  _ was  _ in love with Agatha. (I think. That’s not the point.) And we did have the same problem. (Her not showing any emotion toward me unless it was negative.) But...that’s different, isn’t it? I never really knew what to do with Agatha, but sometimes, by some luck, I got something right. Occasionally, I got to make her smile. 

With Baz, I know  _ exactly  _ how to get him to react. I don’t know how to get him to laugh, unless it’s at my expense, but at least I  _ know _ how to draw those emotions out of him. 

That’s the difference. I never knew what I was doing when it came to Agatha. Good or bad. And that was our problem. 

I know  _ exactly _ what I’m doing when it comes to Baz. At least halfway. I know how to make him upset. I guess I just wish I knew how to make him…not upset. I don’t know. But that doesn’t mean-

…

… _ fuck. _

Does it mean…? I mean, that’s stupid, right? I’m not  _ in love  _ with  _ Baz. _

It...It doesn’t  _ work like that. _

I’m not gay. I can’t be in love with Baz. 

He’s plotting something. He must be. He’s got to be manipulating my emotions or something. Surely. Because I…

“You just figured it out, didn’t you?” My eyes snap back up to Penny, and I realize I must look insane, thrown into panic in the middle of dinner. I  _ am  _ insane, if I’m in love with Baz. 

“Penny, is there any way Baz could be—“

“It’s possible, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening.”

I stare blankly at her. “How do you even know what I was going to say?”

She gives me a look that says everything it needs to. 

She knows. She bloody figured it out before I did. In a way, it doesn’t really surprise me. That she figured it out first, I mean. Not that I’m...Merlin. I can’t even say it. How did this happen? 

This is all Baz’s fault.

**BAZ**

I don’t know what’s going on with Snow today, but something’s wrong. He’s all spacey and distracted, more than he usually is. He almost lost a limb in Magic Words. (Someone accidentally made something fly across the room and he barely looked up in time to move out of the way, and it’s only because Bunce yelled at him.) And he keeps bloody  _ staring _ at me. He probably thinks I’m plotting against him. He accuses me of it constantly. 

As if I could ever even think about hurting him. He doesn’t need to know that. 

In any case, he had some sort of breakdown during dinner. I doubt he noticed, he rarely does, but everyone was suffocating by the end of their meals with Simon’s magic leaking everywhere. I’m not sure what happened. Maybe I’ll be able to get something out of him tonight. 

I left dinner early. I didn’t want to deal with Snow’s problems. (That’s a lie. I’d deal with all of his problems, if he asked me.) And besides, I have homework. It’s not due for another two weeks, but I’d prefer to be on top of it. I was going to study in the library, but it’s a nice evening. It’s supposed to rain in a bit, but I should be back in the dorm by then anyway. 

I set my bag down beside me in the grass and pull out my books. The homework isn’t difficult (it rarely is), and it takes me all of about an hour and a half to complete. 

I almost have all my things packed up before I notice Simon storming across the grass, still smelling of smoke. I try to ignore him. 

“Baz!” 

...So this is about me. I haven’t got a clue what he thinks I’ve done, but he’s probably here to yell at me about it. He yells my name again and I stand up, waiting for him to accuse me of something. I think he might be crying.

“What do you want, Snow?” 

**SIMON**

I hate him. I hate him so goddamn much. 

Except I don’t.

I love him. I’m in love with him.

I don’t have any doubt that it’s true. What am I supposed to do with this?

I didn’t plan what I was going to do when I got to this point. I was going to confront him, accusing him of messing with me. But he isn’t. But I’m getting closer to him, and he’s just standing there with his arms crossed over is  _ perfect fucking chest _ , and  _ Merlin and Morgana and Methusalah  _ I don’t know what I’m doing.

I swing at him. I hit him straight in his jaw. I don’t know why. That’s not what I wanted to do.

Baz brings a hand to his face and looks at me, angry and confused. “Snow, what the f-”

I hit him again. It lands somewhere near his mouth. 

Baz staggers back a few steps. I can’t hear anything over the sound of my own breathing, but I see Baz turn and spit blood onto the ground. (Can he do that? I suppose so, he just did.) 

I’m crying and I can’t think straight and Baz is staring at me like  _ that _ , like he’s about to hit me, and I can see it on his face, and I can’t take it so I choke out, “F-Fuck you.” 

**BAZ**

What the fuck did I do to him? Usually, when he says that, it’s an indicator that I’ve won whatever argument we’re having, only we’re not arguing right now. It stops me in my tracks, and I’m trying to wrack my brain for  _ anything _ I could have done to him, but my fucking face hurts. 

“What the hell did I do?” I shout. 

That was the wrong thing to say. Snow’s starting to look like  _ he’s  _ the one in pain and he’s approaching me again. He starts to swing at me, but it’s a weak attempt, and I easily catch his wrist before he hits me, and then his other wrist as he tries again. He’s making a half-hearted attempt to get out of my grasp, but he’s choking on his own sobs, and Crowley, I feel  _ terrible _ for whatever I did to make him like this. 

I let go of his wrists and back up as he collapses, his knees hitting the ground and his arms falling uselessly in front of him. He’s shaking, and the sounds he’s making are breaking my heart and I don’t care if he hurts me again (I don’t really think he could do much more damage in this state) so I kneel in front of him. His head is still down, but he locks eyes with me, curling into himself further. He tries to hit my shoulder, but it lands more like a pat, and he keeps his fist there, touching my collarbone. 

I don’t say anything. He starts to calm himself down slowly. I risk a brief glance around us. There’s no one else out here, and the rain is starting to fall lightly on us, so I grab his wrist again, gentler this time, and try to pull him up. He doesn’t go willingly.

“Come on, Snow. Let’s get inside.”

I have to help him stand. And, because I’m a constant disappointment to myself, I don’t let go of his wrist until we’re at the door to our room. I stand there for a minute, then let go of him to open the door. 

Once inside, we both sit on our own beds. I’m not sure what I thought would happen from here. The tension hangs in the air for a few moments until I clear my throat and ask, “What was all that about?”

Simon looks up at me, exhausted and, dare I say, a little scared. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds that feel much longer than they are. Finally he says, “I don’t wanna fight you.”

I blink. I’m not sure what he’s trying to get at. “You could’ve fooled me.” I try to speak without any of the malice I usually have. 

He shakes his head. “No, just, like...in general. I don’t wanna fight you. I don’t want to be your enemy.” He hesitates. I assume he’s trying to collect his thoughts. He’s never been the best with words, so I give him a minute. He looks up at me. “We’re supposed to kill each other. I don’t want that.” 

I don’t want that, either. How do I tell him that? “So, you want to, what, be friends?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Or something.” 

“Friends don’t usually start physical altercations with each other, Snow.” Why did I say that? That was mean. I really don’t want to be mean to him right now. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was just...confused. I don’t know.” He looks back down at his hands folded in his lap. 

I don’t know why, but I ask, “Confused about what?”

**SIMON**

I shrug. Again. Merlin, I’m useless at this. Should I tell him? What am I supposed to say to him right now? He hasn’t shut me down yet, so that must mean something…

“Simon, what are you confused about?” Why is he pushing this? Do I tell him? How are you supposed to tell your nemesis that you’re very probably in love with him? I’m shit with words. But the idea of living with this without him knowing is going to kill me. 

I’m looking at him again, and I know that I’m probably staring, but he’s  _ so goddamn beautiful _ and I want to kiss him more than anything else right now. 

Fuck it.

**BAZ**

Simon doesn’t answer. He stands up and moves slowly toward my bed, watching me like he’s gauging my reaction. I try to keep my face steady. I don’t want him to stop moving toward me.

He slowly sits down next to me.  _ Simon Snow is sitting on my bed _ . I think I’m short circuiting. 

He just looks at me for a moment. “I’m confused about a lot of things right now, Baz.” 

I can’t help myself. My eyes flick down to his lips.  _ He’s gorgeous _ . I look back up to his eyes, and my breath catches.

_ He’s staring at  _ my  _ lips. _

I don’t know what to do. I lean forward ever so slightly. He does the same. Eventually, our foreheads touch and Simon Snow, open fire that he is, is burning me and then-

“Is this okay?” he whispers. I nod. 

If I thought I was burning before, it was nothing compared to the blaze I feel when Simon Snow kisses me. He brings his hand to the back of my neck and I touch mine to his cheek. It’s  _ so good _ . It’s...well. For lack of a better word, it’s magic. I inch my other hand forward until it touches his and I lace our fingers together.  _ I don’t ever want this moment to end. _

Eventually, Simon pulls away. (Granted, not very far. Our foreheads are still touching and his eyes are still closed.) “Baz…” He whispers my name like it’s a secret only I was meant to hear.

“Snow,” I say back, because I am weak for this beautiful boy in front of me. He opens his eyes. 

“You called me Simon before.”

I pause for a moment and lean back to look at him properly. “Did I?”

“You did.” He smiles. “I’d like it if you’d kept calling me Simon.” 

Well. That settles it. “Okay,” I smile back at him. “Simon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

**SIMON**

I wake up in Baz’s arms. He’s still asleep, so I take the opportunity to just look at him. 

Baz and I talked about a lot of things last night. I told him I’m a terrible boyfriend. He told me he doesn’t care. 

I am, as of last night, Baz Pitch’s terrible boyfriend. 

Baz Pitch is my boyfriend. 

_ Crowley.  _ I love him. And  _ he  _ loves  _ me _ , that’s a fun little secret I didn’t know about.

I told him that we can keep us a secret, on one condition. I get to tell Penny. He agreed, and we’re telling her at breakfast this morning. 

He wakes up and we get ready, not even pretending not to be staring at each other the whole time. We walk to breakfast together for the first time since I can remember. 

Penny immediately looks at me and Baz when we walk in. She raises an eyebrow as he sits down next to me. Before we can say anything, she looks at me, then at Baz, and back at me, very, very knowingly, as only she can be. 

“Well,” she says, smirking. “That was quick.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make for a happy writer!
> 
> find me on tumblr: @ineffable-grimm-pitch
> 
> check out my other Carry On works in the series below (shameless self promo)


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